


But That's Not Why I'm Here

by Chash



Series: If You Ask Me How I'm Doing [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy assumed that the extent of his interaction with his high-school girlfriend for the rest of his life would be occasionally seeing her updates when he remembered to log in to Facebook.Except apparently she knows his sister's boyfriend.





	But That's Not Why I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> Ten years after the first part, fyi!

**Octavia** : Who was that girl you dated in high school  
Like what was her name

**Me** : Are you trying to break into my bank account?  
If so, you've got the wrong person's, that's not one of my security questions

**Octavia** : Clark something? Something Clark?

**Me** : Clarke Griffin  
Why?

**Octavia** : Oh wow, that's really it?  
She's coming to Thanksgiving  
She and Lincoln are friends  
Is that cool?   
I remember liking her  
And I can't really uninvite her from Lincoln's so if it's not cool idk what I'll do

**Me** : It's fine  
I haven't talked to her in like ten years  
But if she's friends with Lincoln she's probably still cool  
How do they know each other?

**Octavia** : Work  
She's an art therapist  
So probably still your type

**Me** : Is that my type now?  
Good to know

**Octavia** : Seriously, I can't believe it's actually your ex  
I hope it's not too awkward

**Me** : It's not like we had a bad breakup  
It'll be fine

**Octavia** : Sounds fake but okay

*

Bellamy counts Clarke Griffin as one of his good relationships, possibly even his best relationship. She was his first serious girlfriend, and they had an amicable breakup when they went off to different colleges. They're Facebook friends, but neither of them really uses Facebook that much. She'll wish him a happy birthday when she remembers, and he'll do the same for her. On the whole, it's about the best possible case for a high-school girlfriend: he was happy when they were dating, and he's seen no indication that she's become a terrible person in the ten years since he last saw her.

He's still not sure how to feel about actually seeing her again. It speaks well of her that she's friends with Lincoln, and art therapy seems like a good fit for her, from what he remembers. It should be nice to catch up, assuming she's still cool.

It shouldn't make him nervous.

**Me** : I guess I'm having Thanksgiving dinner with Clarke

**Miller** : The Clarke you were totally in love with in high school?  
That Clarke?

**Me** : That makes it sound like I was pining away for her or something  
She was my girlfriend  
She liked me  
We went to prom together

**Miller** : So, same Clarke  
Why are you doing Thanksgiving with her?

**Me** : Apparently she's friends with O's boyfriend

**Miller** : So she's local too  
Hope that works out for you

**Me** : It's Thanksgiving  
There's not a lot to screw up  
I'm not worried

**Miller** : You know what I mean  
Reconnect with your ex at the holidays  
Live your own Hallmark movie dream

**Me** : Thanks  
Asshole

*

**Unknown** : Lincoln is seriously dating your sister?

If Bellamy's honest, he was hoping for the text. For all he told Miller he and Clarke were both happy with their relationship--and for all he believes that--he was always sort of expecting her to move on to bigger and better things in a way he wasn't sure of for himself. She was going to an Ivy League school, and he didn't even make it through a full year at his state university before his grandmother died and he had to drop out to take care of his sister. He ended up going back later, finishing up his degree, and he's doing well for himself. But Clarke had always been a golden girl, and it was always vaguely miraculous to him that she liked him too.

So it's good that she's the one who's texting him first. He would have felt too awkward.

**Me** : As far as I know  
He always seemed pretty serious about her, but you're his friend, you probably know better than I do   
Hi, princess

**Clarke** : I always thought princess would be a proper noun

**Me** : Yeah, my bad, it's your title  
Hi, Princess

**Clarke** : Hi, asshole  
(You're one of many assholes)

**Me** : I missed you too  
How's it going?

**Clarke** : Pretty well  
I assume Octavia told you I work with Lincoln

**Me** : Yeah  
Art therapy seems like a good fit for you  
You like it?

**Clarke** : Yeah, it's really cool  
Lincoln said you're teaching?

**Me** : High school Latin  
I taught you, I figure I can teach anyone

**Clarke** : You wish all your students were as good as I was

**Me** : I really do  
I'd never worry about AP scores  
You don't go home for Thanksgiving?

**Clarke** : No  
Did you hear my dad died?

**Me** : Shit, no  
I'm so sorry  
When?

**Clarke** : Sophomore year of college  
My mom got remarried like three years ago and moved to Canada  
It's expensive to go and they don't even celebrate our Thanksgiving  
So I just go to Lincoln's

**Me** : Makes sense  
If you feel weird about me crashing, I can drive over to Miller's  
He's in Providence

**Clarke** : Miller from high school?  
How's he doing?

**Me** : Pretty good  
Working as a security guard, doing acting on the side  
He's got a serious boyfriend, he's thinking about proposing soon

**Clarke** : Awesome  
Tell him I say hi  
But definitely come to Lincoln's for Thanksgiving  
I'm looking forward to seeing you

**Me** : Cool  
Me too

*

Bellamy really doesn't want to be anxious about the whole thing. It shouldn't be a big deal. It's not going to be a big deal. He's never really done this before, reconnecting with an ex, but that's also not what he's doing. He's just going to an event with a person he used to be involved with. They have mutual friends. They might see more of each other, if they get along. But it's not a _thing_. 

It's a coincidence, and he doesn't have to worry about it, but he still spends way too long picking out an outfit and trying to put his hair in order. She always liked his glasses, so he doesn't bother with contacts--he doesn't always, anyway--and she said he looked good in blue one time, so he goes with a blue flannel shirt over a white t-shirt and jeans. Octavia told him nice but not fancy, and he thinks that's about how he looks. But, like--good.

Hopefully.

**Me** : Why am I so fucking nervous

**Miller** : You're a mess?

**Me** : I can't tell if that's a question or an explanation

**Miller** Explanation  
Tell Clarke I say hi

Octavia and Lincoln were dating last year, but O declared it _not Thanksgiving serious_ , so this is their first time spending the holiday together. Apparently, Lincoln had mentioned Clarke a few times, but just in passing, and O assumed she was a male coworker, not a female one, and therefore never made the connection to Bellamy's ex. It wasn't like she and Clarke had been close, anyway. 

He still might feel better if they'd already interacted. If she could tell him how Clarke is and what she's like now. It's not exactly that he's worried he won't like her, he just wishes he had a better idea of what to expect. He'd been hoping to text her a little more, but he didn't really have anything to say, and apparently she didn't either.

It's all so stupid; none of this is a big deal. Nothing is going to _happen_. He shouldn't even want it to.

But, well. If something _did_ happen, it wouldn't be the worst thing.

Octavia's the one who opens the door. Even though they both live in the city, they aren't that close to each other geographically and they're both busy, so it's been a few weeks since he actually saw her. As always, she looks at him like she's the older sibling and she's checking to make sure he's dressed himself and won't embarrass him, since he can't be trusted. 

As always, he can, and she's ridiculous.

"You look good. Clarke's not here yet."

"How many people are coming, anyway?" he asks, shrugging his coat off and hanging it up. "Is it going to feel like a weird Thanksgiving double date?"

"No, but you don't know anyone else who's coming so I bet you follow her around like a lost puppy."

"I always appreciate your votes of confidence." He gives her a hug. "Happy Thanksgiving. Where should I put the wine?"

Lincoln has a decently sized group of strays for Thanksgiving, a couple friends, some coworkers, and even one or two foster kids who have aged out of the system and are still in touch with him. Bellamy helps out with whatever Lincoln will let him help with, but there's honestly more help than there are things to be done, so he ends up chatting with a few of Lincoln's friends about sports, despite his complete lack of sports knowledge, and perking up at every sound outside.

When the doorbell rings, O's got her hands full, so she calls, "Bell, will you get that?" and when he does, there's Clarke.

In high school, Clarke was pretty in an all-American, cheerleader way, and she still has something of that, the same wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But she's cut it shorter and dyed it, and her face is a little more worn. And the smile when she recognizes him is as familiar as ever, and so is the spark of warm fondness that flicks in his stomach.

He always did like Clarke.

"Hey," she says.

"Hi. Good to see you."

"You too." He wets his lips, trying not to stare. He wants to catalog every detail of her. "Can I take your coat?"

"Wow, so polite. I'm here a lot, I know where my coat goes." She bites the corner of her mouth. "I'm going to hug you."

He has to laugh. "Good."

It's a little weird, having her in his arms again. She uses different shampoo now, and she's put on a little weight, doesn't feel quite like his muscle memory thinks she should. If he was lucky, it would be enough to make him forget everything, to push back the desire to keep holding on, to bury his face in her hair.

The desire remains, but he does resist it.

"It really is good to see you," she says. "Happy Thanksgiving."

His grin must be ridiculous. "Yeah. You too."

*

Bellamy really had thought he was overreacting. Or, if not over _reacting_ , certainly overthinking. Overestimating, maybe. He thought it wasn't going to be a thing, seeing Clarke. And, in many ways, it's not. It's not as awkward as he feared it might be, and he doesn't feel as self-conscious as he expected.

But he does really, really like her, and he'd been sure that wouldn't happen. He'd hoped she was still smart and dedicated and beautiful, but he'd been sure she'd be different, not worse, but less suited to him. Instead, in the last ten years, it seems as if they grew up in complimentary ways. He finds out they both identify as bisexual, both have strong opinions on social issues, have even both been thinking about getting more involved in local politics, maybe running for office. 

The first time he met Clarke, he was sure they had nothing in common, and it was only slowly that he realized how well they fit together. At least this time, he's not wasting time thinking she's a stuck-up rich girl. He already knows better than that, which means he's skipping directly to the second step: falling for her fast and hard.

He really didn't think it would happen twice.

"Your crush is showing," Octavia sing-songs, while they're clearing the table. He was seated next to Clarke for the meal, and the two of them definitely talked far more to each other than anyone else. Not that the others seemed to mind.

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed. It's not my fault I had good taste in high school." He runs his hand through his hair. "It's not that obvious, right?"

"She probably noticed you've been talking to her all night. But she was talking to you too, soooo--" She grins. "I'm looking forward to the wedding."

"Thanks. I hope you don't mind being a groomsman."

"Not best man?"

"You can fight Miller for it."

"Pass. Just groomsman is fine." She gives him a gentle shove. "You're a guest. Stop helping with dishes and go flirt."

It's giving him a lot of credit, but Clarke is on the couch, looking through one of Lincoln's coffee table books, so he figures he might as well take the seat next to her.

"Where do you live?" he asks.

"Where do I live?"

"I know you're local, but O is local too and I never see her because she lives at the end of the green line."

She grins. "So you want to know if you're going to see more of me?"

“It would be hard to see less of you than I had been, so I might as well try seeing more of you.”

She laughs. “That’s true. I’m in Somerville. Davis.”

“Cool. I’m in Central, so we’ll be running for different government offices for a while.”

“Like you have time to do public service _and_ teach.”

“I’ll figure it out.” He swallows; it feels momentous, even though it probably isn’t. He’s just making an offer to a woman. Not even a romantic offer, not yet.

As is his tradition, he’s starting with an alliance and hoping he figures out where to go from there.

“I could use some help,” he says, and her smile is warm.

“Well, you’ve got my number.”

“That's true, I do. So we’ll be in touch.”

They take the train home together, and he gets off first; she’s texted him before he makes it back to his apartment, and he can’t stop smiling.

*

Hanging out with Clarke is a lot more complicated than it was in high school. It’s no longer built into his schedule, seeing her every weekday and having excuses to do so on the weekend. It’s annoying, because he spends so much less time with her than he’d like, but it is nice to feel like they’re choosing each other. They’re both busy and have a lot going on, but Clarke will reschedule to make sure she can see him, and he’ll do the same. 

Adult relationships take more work than teenage ones, but he’s starting to think he really might get to keep her at the end of this one. Assuming he ever figures out how to make a move.

He’s thinking about that instead of his grading when Clarke asks, “How are the translations?” It’s January, a Saturday, and they’re both doing their own work on his couch. It feels a little nostalgic, honestly. He wouldn’t mind if it happened more often.

All the time, ideally.

“Fine,” he says. “Everyone had the same problems with it, which is nice. I know exactly what to cover in class on Monday.”

“How many left?”

He flicks through the pile, getting a quick count. “Three.”

She settles in more comfortably on the couch. “Cool, tell me when you’re done.”

“I can finish them later,” he offers. “If you want to do something else. They’ll keep.”

“If you finish them, I’ll blow you,” she says, carefully casual, and he nearly drops the whole stack.

"Yeah?" he asks, voice coming out a little rough.

"If you want," she says, and he puts the papers aside so he can cross the couch and kiss her.

Kissing Clarke has the same kind of odd familiarity all his interactions with her do, the knowledge that he's done this before, the memory of her lips under his, her fingers tangling in his hair like he used to, but it's something entirely new too. Something better.

"You didn't finish your grading," she murmurs, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt.

He kisses down her jaw. "I promise I'm good for it."

"Yeah," she agrees. "You are."

*

Bellamy Blake didn't really believe he'd marry Clarke Griffin in high school. It took about a month of dating her before he even believed the whole relationship was even _happening_ , if he's honest. He knew they'd grow up and grow apart and move on, and he was fine with that. If that was all he got, he'd take it. 

After a year of dating her at age twenty-nine, all he has left to do is pick out a ring. She already told him she'd say yes. So he has to say, whoever said high school would be the best days of his life? Completely and totally full of shit.

His life has never looked better.


End file.
